Been writing poems today, only two finished pieces, and one of those is for a friend, but the other I’m happy to share.
I’m not exactly the last of the great travellers, but I do love it. I’m away for the weekend, second weekend in a row – which explains why most of my poetry today has centred round travel.
This poem is about the little differences between "there" and home. It was just quickly jotted down, but I like it for its faults, it is after all silly sentiment, about unimportant things, unless you are the one having the experiences.
Its a Slightly Strange World Out There
Isn’t travel funny,
Lot’s of things are the same,
But the little things profane,
No guide wheels on buses,
My accent creating fusses,
Same brand shops,
But trading later stops,
History seems all around,
Yet only as rich,
As homeward bound,
Isn’t travel funny.
©, Jonathan L. Lawrence, September 2009
Aspiring 